Your Own Eyes
by G0RGEOUS
Summary: Not written by me! This really isn't an Outsiders fic, but it's in the 60's and in a small town like Tulsa, so just check it out if you want to.


_This story was written by my best friend Emily, who was too shy to post the story here on her account, so I'm putting it on mine without her knowing. :D _

Just like that a glass vase came flying at my head, I ducked just in time. The vase hit the wall with a crash and I flinched. "Molly, stop it! Please." 

But it was my fault, I shouldn't have told her I was leaving. Didn't she understand that I was leaving because of her? Not because I was angry, not because I was sad. She told me her dreams of moving to a big city and becoming someone special. I was standing in her way like a brick wall, how could she not see that? I was just some rodeo boy that fell in love with a kid that was a little too wild for anyone to handle. 

Love. What a fucked up word. It hurt so badly. It felt so good.

"I'm leaving, Molly. There's nothing you can do." The words tasted like acid in my mouth and they stung just as bad. 

"Why are you doing this?" She was crying now, her eyes wide and desperate, like a caged animal. 

"So you can have a life," my throat and chest felt tight, like I couldn't breath. _Don't cry, _I begged myself. 

I hadn't cried when the police came to my door and told me that my mother had been found dead in her car by the highway, with a bloody gun in her hand and a stained envelope. I hadn't cried when I read her suicide letter. Or when my father had beaten me so hard that I went numb. And when he came home one day, so drunk that he couldn't barely stand and he started off towards my sister's room. I hadn't cried when I had gone to _juvie _for shooting him. When I'd come home and learned that my sister ran away the night before the Social Services worker came to take her to her foster home, I hadn't cried. 

Had I ever cried in my life? Not that I could remember. 

"I have a life with you!" Molly sobbed. 

"You'll understand when you get older, Molly. You'll understand." 

The irony of this moment was almost funny. Sixteen and fourteen wasn't that different, and tomorrow I'd be seventeen. I was caught between being a man and being a boy. This was crazy. I had to leave before I did something even crazier, like decide to stay. 

"I have to go now." I gulped, gripping hard to the train ticket in my pocket. 

"I love you, Brett." She said suddenly. "Now will you stay?" 

I remembered those long nights, the lonely ones, living with a strange foster family. I had spent many sleepless night wanting more, wishing for something different, instead of the blunt hurt I had always felt. I missed my sister, who's innocence no one could replace, and my mother, who's love I knew existed. In a twisted way. I missed the way she'd gently clean my wounds after my father hit me, but she never did anything to stop. 

The first time I met Molly had been at the rodeo. I hadn't ever seen such a strange girl. She was wearing a brown sweater and a pair of dusty jeans, her hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. It was like she'd cast a spell on me, I had rushed over to introduce myself and tripped over a strand of rope. She'd laughed and told that I should be more careful. I had known right at that moment there was no hope for me, I was stuck in her web. 

The intensity in her eyes was so extreme I did a double take. On the outside she was happy, anyone could see that. She smiled and tussled her hair and laughed. On the inside she was completely destroyed. I promised myself that I would never let anyone hurt her again, and now I was doing it. Along with the sorrow I was feeling, anger was there now too. What had I become? A cold, heartless bastard that convinced himself that leaving his girlfriend would make everything better? Yep. 

My eyes stung and I knew I had to get out of there quick or I'd start blubbering like a baby. 

"No." I said in a harsh, husky voice. "Loving me means nothing." 

Pictures of us flashed in my head. Kissing, touching, snuggling at scary movies, dancing in the rain, Molly running down the dusty road and flying into my arms. That would all be gone. _Are you sure you want to do this, _I questioned myself. _You'll lose her, maybe forever. _

"Goodbye, Molly Anne Hansen." 

Picking up my duffel bag and throwing it over my shoulder, I walked out of her house. And life. The sunset was pink and peach and purple. Once Molly had described a sunset to me, she bubbling when she was speaking about and then she got really quiet. 

"What's wrong?" I asked, concerned by her sudden mood swing. 

"Oh, you should have seen that sunset with your own eyes." 

I just held her tighter then, not wanting to let go, ever. 

Don't look back, I commanded. There was an unnatural tightness in my soul and my body ached, like I had broken all my bones. It felt like I bad dream I would just wake up from suddenly, but I wouldn't. I have just walked out on the only person that ever really loved me irrevocably. I had pushed her through the cracks. 

"Molly…" I whispered quietly. "I'm so sorry." 


End file.
